The Unbearable Lightness of Beards
by elecktrik
Summary: This is probably the funniest thing I have ever written. If you're not easily squicked, I recommend reading it.


Hagrid grumbled as he opened a can of dog food. "Here ye go, Fang. Now I've got to be off for a short while. Dumbledore's just sent me an owl asking me to come up. Says it's important. I best be going." He smiled at Fang and bent down to scratch behind his ears.

He slipped into his giant gumboots and trudged across the snow from his cabin into Hogwarts. His mind wandered as he trudged up and down the corridors. If this kept up, he would have worn a distinctive track into the carpeting by the end of the month. This was the third time in four days that Dumbledore had called Hagrid up to his office, each time claiming an emergency.

"Think I'll get the nutter a dictionary for Christmas," thought Hagrid. "Wish I could've stayed in me house and played with me doggy. Or gone to the forest to take tea with the centaurs. They've warmed up quite nicely lately. Crazy centaurs."

He muttered the password, ascended the stairs, and stared at Dumbledore with great curiosity. "What in the name of Merlin are ye doin', Albus?" he inquired, unsure if he should excuse himself or go into the office.

Dumbledore was perched on his desk, limbs flying everywhere. "Do come in, Rubeus. I was just doing my evening stretches. It's how I stay so…nimble."

He spun around so he was sitting on edge of the desk and motioned to a plush armchair in front of the desk. Hagrid felt obliged to sit, so he did. The armchair was only about 4 inches away from the desk. Dumbledore was practically in his lap. Hagrid squirmed uncomfortably and avoided meeting the Headmaster's gaze.

"What's the emergency, Dumbledore? I really should be gettin' back to me garden. The squash patch needs some new fertilizer."

Dumbledore peered down at Hagrid, his eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. "Hagrid. I have invited you here today so we can settle a matter once and for all." He looked expectantly down at Hagrid, who looked confused and exasperated.

Dumbledore continued to peer down at Hagrid, and after a few minutes, Hagrid jumped out of the armchair and crossed the room. "Well? WHAT IS IT?"

"Beards," replied Dumbledore.

No one moved. No one breathed. Hagrid blinked. He blinked again. He blinked a third time and slapped his face into his open palm. "BEARDS? YOU CALLED ME AWAY FROM ME FANG TO DISCUSS BEARDS? WHAT KIND OF EMERGENCY IS THAT?" he bellowed.

"Now now, Hagrid! Please do calm down. I just wished to settle a simple matter with you. Now. You have been prancing around the grounds like you have the best beard out there. I just wanted to clarify this with you. My beard is over 2 feet longer than yours. My beard is better than yours."

This was too much. Hagrid flushed and gesticulated wildly, knocking small glass thingies off of pedestals. "MINE IS THICKER."

"I'm afraid that we will have to settle this fairly. We shall weigh our beards. The one with the heaviest beard has the best beard at Hogwarts. The one with the lightest beard is the loser. And the loser has to trim the winner's beard."

Hagrid grunted and consented. It didn't even dawn on him that this was ridiculous. Dumbledore had extracted a set of silver scales from a drawer. He placed them on his desk and stood beside them, arms folded. "You go first," he instructed.

Hagrid moved forward and placed his beard on the scales. Dumbledore read the numbers out to him. "2 pounds, 7 ounces. My turn." He switched places with Hagrid and placed his own beard on the scales. Hagrid immediately started shouting and muttering. "YOU'VE CHEATED! YOU MUST HAVE!"

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling, and asked, "How much does it weigh, Rubeus?" Hagrid didn't bother to stifle a moan as he cried in anguish, "4 POUNDS, 9 OUNCES."

Hagrid sank down into the armchair, his face in his hands, and wept freely. Dumbledore sat on the edge of his desk again and reached out a hand, stroking Hagrid's hair. "There, there, Rubeus. It's alright now. Albus is here. It's ok."

Hagrid sniffed and looked up. "Where are the scissors? That beard of yours needs a trim, and I can give you a good one." Dumbledore smiled and reached into a pocket of his robes, pulling out a small pair of scissors. Didn't the man know that carrying around scissors in your pocket is dangerous?

The scissors twinkled like Dumbledore's eyes. Hagrid wiped his nose on his sleeve and lifted Dumbledore's beard up. Neither of them spoke as he snipped gently, only taking off the damaged ends. It was the best trim Dumbledore had ever had, and he told Hagrid that when he was finished.

Hagrid blushed and thanked him. "It's nothing, really. I'm just used to it by now, trimming me own beard 'n all."

Albus didn't respond for a moment and looked into Hagrid's eyes. This time Hagrid didn't look away. "You have a lovely beard, Hagrid." Hagrid blushed and thanked him.

"You are beautiful, Hagrid," said Dumbledore calmly. He swooped down like his phoenix and planted his lips upon Hagrid's. They felt like leather. They felt like heaven.

A soft moan escaped Hagrid's mouth as he leaned into Dumbledore, his lips parting and their tongues meeting. Soon they were standing, hurrying to remove each other's robes. Hagrid's gumboots were at opposite ends of the room. Dumbledore was perched on the edge of the desk, moaning, with Hagrid between his legs.

Then it all went fuzzy. Then it went dark.

Ginny shot up straight as an arrow in her bed and screamed as loud as she could. Hermione came rushing over to comfort her.

"Just a nightmare. It was just a bad dream," panted Ginny. She was still as pale as a sheet.

"Of course it was, Ginny, darling," cooed Hermione. "Now. I have to tell you something! I ran into Hagrid about an hour ago and he was muttering something about the length of his beard or something. His boots were on the wrong feet!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" 


End file.
